


Paint Chips and Tea Bags

by i_dalliance



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fluff, Gen, I figured i should post here, Originally Posted on Tumblr, especially with the swooning for pines game, like a year or so ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 16:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_dalliance/pseuds/i_dalliance
Summary: In the late, Ford and you take a moment together.





	Paint Chips and Tea Bags

With an aching breath you placed your brush down, stained with the colours of the last few hours. You stretched out the cricks in your back and paused the music that had been blaring in your ears. A quick glance to the time made you realized that it was later than most people were awake for. After no longer being preoccupied by painting you realized how your throat burned with thirst. You drop the brush in the cup of black stained water and take the palette to wash in the kitchen sink.

The door creaked open with a gentle push as the light from the room broke that darkness of the hall. You peaked your head out to see if you could see if anyone else was still up, but no sound other than the distant rumble of Stan’s snoring. Closing the door behind you, you started to blink to adjust to the sudden rush of darkness. When your eyes had adjusted to be able to see from the dim moonlight streaking in from the windows you began to make your way downstairs.

The steps creaked as you made your way down. You shifted the palette to ensure that you wouldn’t drop it and smear paint all over the floor of the Mystery Shack. You carefully meandered into the kitchen and flicked on the lights. They flickered then stayed on, a light hum coming from the bulb that Ford had invented. You walked past the wood stove and made your way to the creepy industrial sink on the left wall. The sinks pipes rumbled as you turned the knobs and water shot out into the deep sink. You stuck the palette into the sink and started wiping the paint under the running water. You were so focused on the coloured water that you didn’t notice Ford appear in the doorway.

“You’re up particularly late.”

Your head whipped around to take in the scientist standing there.

“You are as well,” you responded putting the palette in the rusty drying rack.

“I had to finish some work,” he murmured as he grabbed a towel and started drying your hands.

You gave a slight murmur of acknowledgement as he draped the damp towel over the handle of the oven. You reached over to grasp at his hand. Your five fingers melded with his and you pulled him close.

“What were you painting,” he asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You know the rule,” you chided, “you can’t know until it’s done.”

“I can dream,” he murmured as he brought his hands to his face level.

“Seems to have used a lot of red,” he said before pressing a kiss against your stained knuckles.

The Artist and the Scientist, the two of you were an odd pair you mused as you leaned against his chest.

“Late night tea?” you murmured into his turtleneck as his smell swarmed around you.

After water boiled, kisses stolen, and tea bags steeped the pair of you were sitting on the dingy couch on the porch staring at the starry night. The warmth of the mug soothed your tired hands as you rested your head on Ford’s shoulder. With the sounds of Ford’s comforting heartbeat and the general sounds of the forest, and the feeling of Ford’s fingers running through your hair it was easy to drift off to sleep next to the man you loved.


End file.
